Silver Blood
by PoisnousPixie
Summary: As his eyes closed, he could make out the vague shape of walking away, leaving him the dark shadows of an alleyway. Alone, weak, vulnerable. AU, Eventual PrUk
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

This fic is loosely based on an ongoing RP on the site I co-own. It's a segment of short stories leading from the creation of my vampire on until the start of the RP (and possibly after). You can find the link to the RP site on my profile.

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><p><strong>Bloody Kisses: Death &amp; Rebirth<strong>

She was beautiful. Pale skin, white hair, and dark, deep eyes. A slim figure covered in a skin tight miniskirt, and a loose black blouse. Long legs, pale and smooth, accentuated by sleek red pumps. She leaned back against the bar, watching everyone dancing, watching couples in the shadowy corners, sipping on colorful drinks, sitting close together. Watched groups of friends at tables closer to the dance floor, joking and drinking.

That's where he first spotted her, at the bar. He was going up to get his third drink of the night. His body warm, and loose from having been on the floor, dancing amongst the sea of bodies, moving to the beat of the music, and hardly noticing anyone else. Ordering his drink absently, he pulled his phone out of his jeans, checking to see the number of missed calls and texts, as they steadily rose from single digits to double. All from his Father, except for a few from his brother, which were probably actually from his father, just trying to get his attention.

Annoyed at his parental unit's determination, he pocketed the phone, and took his beer, throwing what he owed on the table. He took the cold glass in hand, and that's when he felt them. Those eyes, so dark in the flashing lights of the club, they looked black. He met them head on, grinning at the woman, like he would do for any woman he thought was checking him out.

He lifted his beer towards her, and she gave a smirk, before turning her attention back to the dancers. Shrugging, he left her there, going back to the table of his drinking buddies, none of whom he could name outside the clubs or bars. Not that he thought they even knew his name. The joy of drinking with mostly strangers, they rarely remembered you, and even with his unnaturally pale skin, vibrant red eyes, and white hair he could be hard to remember after a long night of drinking.

So he sat with them, shouting jokes over the music, and gulping at his beer, as though he thought someone would take it from him. And really, someone could, he wasn't legal by stateside law. He downed the rest of it, savoring the taste on the last mouthful. It wasn't really a flavour he liked. English beer, he knew, had nothing on true _German_ beer, but he'd take what he could get and not complain.

Standing, he gave one last glance at the group, deciding that they were losers he wouldn't waste his time with anywhere else, he left them at the table and headed towards the dance floor again. Pushing his way into the throng of people, forcing his way in, it took about ten minutes before he was successfully surrounded by people in the center of the dance floor.

He moved to the sound of the music, it's beat echoing in his very soul. Hips swaying, body twisting, arms moving on their own, eyes closed, and head tilted up, he moved on his own. Every now and again brushing against someone else, or having one of them bumping into him. He hardly noticed, as his body relaxed, blood flowing more smoothly, as he was able to forget all the stress of his day-to-day life. School, work, fighting with his dad, being scolded by his younger brother. It all melted away with the thrum of the music, became nothing.

It wasn't until he felt small, cold hands, pressing against his hips and pushing up his sides, that he opened his eyes. Their touch was obviously not that of someone making accidental contact, and he was a bit displeased with that. Until, that is, his eyes met the dark orbs of the woman from the bar. Standing with her so close, she was shorter than him by a few inches, her body lean, and cold to the touch, pressed close to his, swaying and moving to the rhythm. Her arms wove around his shoulders, one hand playing with the hair at the base of his neck, twirling the sweat-dampened locks around her fingers.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, pressed flush together in the midst of the crowd. Her chest to his, her hips fitting perfectly when matched with his, one of his legs sliding between her's, bending up to press against her center, as his hands followed the curves of her body to rest at her hips, pulling her with him. Moving them both to the beat.

He couldn't drag his eyes away from her, her pale heart-shaped face, with wide dark eyes, cupid-bow lips, and high cheek bones. The soft way hair swayed around her, long locks of it falling into her face, so light it nearly melded with her skin color. Then, suddenly, her hands were pulling him down, and those cupid-bow lips were pressed to his own lips. They were soft, and sweet, pressing against his. So enraptured with her kiss, he hardly noticed as she pulled him back.

He was unaware of them leaving the crowd, or the feel of his phone vibrating in his pocket, it's ringtone lost in the sound of the music and the thumping of his heart echoing in his head. She led him out of the club, out into the cool night air, her lips finally pulled away, but a sweet seductive smile forming, as she beckoned him forward, leading him along. She pulled away from his touch, a coy look on her face. Her hand took one of his, and he followed, loyally, allowing himself to be pulled into an alley, back to where the glow of the street lights couldn't touch them, into shadows and damp darkness.

She pressed him against a wall, pinning him to it with her body. Her hands gliding over his body, sliding under his shirt, caressing along his jean-clad thighs. Her lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jaw and throat. His own hands reached out for her, stroking her back, gripping her hips, tangling in her long silky hair. He ducked his head, trying to catch her lips with his again, but she weaved away from the touch, smiling sweetly. She reached up, gripping his chin, and tilting his head, so their eyes locked.

Her gaze was still dark, but in the shadows, as he saw nothing but her, he could pick out swirls of red, bright and ominous. Something in him urged him to run, get away, but he ignored it. Instead, letting himself be coaxed into a relaxed, calm state. He leaned against the wall, letting her move closer, one of her hands sliding down to grasp through his jeans, the other trailing fluttering fingertips along his collar bone.

She dipped her head, and those dark eyes, with their ruby highlights, disappeared from his sight. Mid-moan, he felt something sharp, piercing the side of his throat. He struggled now, hands shoving into her hair, trying to pry her head away, but she didn't budge. Her own hands, small, cold and soft, reached up, grabbing him by the forearms, and pushing him harder against the wall. The sharp pain of being bitten faded into a dull throb as her teeth retracted, and only returned when she started to suck. Forcibly pulling his blood from his body, her tongue, as cold as the rest of her body, lapped at his torn skin, making sure not a single drop of red escaped her.

His vision began to swim, a strangled cry dying on his lips, as his body grew heavy. Legs shaking, he would have fallen, if she hadn't stayed close, pressing him against the wall, holding him up. Spots formed in his vision, his body growing cold, and numb, as her body grew hot, warm and comforting against his. His arms fell limp at his sides, and she released them, letting her hands slid down his chest, along his abs, dipping between the hem of his jeans to brush along his hips. He couldn't fight the her touch, let it lull him away from himself. Away from the pain throbbing in his throat, from the cold wrapping around him, like a familiar blanket, cruel and deadly.

Then she was pulling away, her mouth red with his blood, eyes bright and a ruby color that could easily challenge his own red eyes. A sad smile formed, as her small hands caressed his face, like the way a mother would her child. As he started to slump down, she pressed a bloody kiss to his forehead, her hands running softly over his face, throat, and shoulders. Words were murmured, but he couldn't place them, the syllables not forming correctly in his ears. Then something hot and wet pressed to his mouth, metallic and bitter.

Weakly, he tried to shove it away, but she grabbed his hair, tugging his head back, crouching down over his slumped body. His eyes rolled in his head, as darkness moved in along the edges of his vision. Her fingers pushed between his lips, prying his mouth open, and that hot wet thing returned, spilling bitter liquid down his throat, that burned like fire. He groaned, and struggled, trying to get away, but the hand returned to his hair, holding his head still, as she sat on his legs, straddling his thighs. Her face pressed to the side of his, her lips brushing against his ear, "Shhhh, drink."

Pain, agonizing and vicious, ripped through his already aching body, without remorse. If he could have, he would have screamed, as it was, all he could do was whimper and shudder under her. His throat closing and opening sporadically, taking more of the liquid in, even as he tried so hard to avoid swallowing. His stomach ached, rebelling against him, trying to get rid of the foul taste.

Then it was over. The pain ebbed away, the thing at his mouth moved away, and her lips returned there. Her tongue, warm and rough, licked along his lips, dipping into his mouth, before she pulled away. Another kiss to his forehead, one to his cheek, and her hand smoothing down his hair. She stood slowly, and as his eyes closed, he could make out the vague shape of walking away, leaving him the dark shadows of an alleyway. Alone, weak, _vulnerable_.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

This fic is loosely based on an ongoing RP on the site I co-own. It's a segment of short stories leading from the creation of my vampire on until the start of the RP (and possibly after). You can find the link to the RP site on my profile.

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><p><strong>Waking Up - The First Night <strong>

He hardly paid any attention to where he was going. His mind swam in a dizzy haze, as he moved, faster than he could ever remember running before. When he eventually opened his eyes, it was to find everything around him starting to blur together. Not the way things did when you got teary-eyed, (and he wasn't going to cry damn it, he was way to awesome for that!) but like in a video game, or movie, when the character was moving at something closer to warp speed.

Upon this realization, he came to a sudden stop, his whole body jerking with the resulting force. He fell to the ground, skidding along the sidewalk, rolling. Hissing in pain, he pushed himself up, and glared at the ground, at his pale hand against the beige of concrete. It took him a moment, so focused on his pain, and the horrifying thoughts of going back and drinking his brother's blood, to realize he wasn't breathing.

Not in, or out.

His throat was closed, and no air could pass. His lungs didn't burn like they should and the only thing that started to make his chest rise and fall rapidly in an attempt to get air was his panic. He needed to breath, he told himself, as he laid on the sidewalk, hands at his throat, clawing at it, willing it to loosen and allow air through. Eventually, he tired himself out, his vision blurring with what he thought was lack of oxygen to his brain. He lay limp on the ground, waiting to pass out, and for death to take him. Neither happened.

What did happen, was a heightened awareness of himself and everything around him. No longer struggling, just laying and waiting, he could feel the pain in his leg all to well, but the injury on his neck no longer stung. He found that he couldn't feel his heart beat, even when he pressed against a pulse point, or just rested his hand on his chest. He obviously wasn't breathing, and try as he might, he didn't feel the resulting burn of asphyxiation.

He could hear things, smell things, that normally would have been lost to him. Cars moving, people walking, all far off. The smell of gasoline, filth and iron that generally surrounded a city were sickening to him now.

_Click. Click._

Tilting his head, he could hear the sound of someone walking closer. In heels. He frowned, opening his eyes, and with sight so sharp he could make out details so tiny, even in daylight, right next to the object, he shouldn't have been able to see them.

_Click, Click. _

Pushing himself up, he turned his head towards the sound. Eyes focusing in on a pair of long pair of white legs. A pair of stiletto heels on small feet, a short skirt falling down to mid-thigh.

Rolling onto his stomach, and easily, for once, getting himself up to his full height, he locked his eyes on the woman. She wasn't tall, about a good foot shorter than him, with wild bushy red hair the color of fire. Her eyes were large and green, locked on her open cellphone. The glow of blue-white light from the device lit her pale face up, pointing out the freckles, and highlighting her small puglike nose, and thin lips. The sound of her heels on sidewalk was soon accompanied by something else. Like a roaring in his ears. A drum beat that made his mouth water, and his body tense. His gaze fell from her face, to her throat, the space between neck and shoulder, where her green blouse barely covered freckled skin.

She didn't notice him, and he hardly felt himself move. One minute, he was a good block away from her, and the next he was in front of her. His hands moving on their own, he grabbed her, and pinned her to wall of a building. She screamed, struggled, called for help.

There was none.

Just as there had been none for him.

Ignoring her flailing limbs, and barely feeling her fists hitting his back, sharp heels kicking at his legs. Only a mild shock of pain, when she hit his injured leg just right.

It wasn't enough, and his mouth opened, as he easily titled her head to the side, ear to shoulder. Bending down, his mouth opened, throat no longer closed. Savagely, without really feeling himself do it, not aware of it, he bit down. She screamed, so loud it echoed in the night air, high pitched and frantic. It couldn't pierce the roaring in his ears, though. The sound of her blood flowing, her pulse quick with fear.

The taste of iron hit his tongue, filled his mouth, and easily slid down his throat. The clenching pain in his stomach disappeared, the burn of thirst and hunger ebbed away into nothing. His eyes fluttered closed as he sucked, drawing more of that sweet taste, a moan forming in his chest and vibrating through his body. There was a bitter taste mixed into that sweetness. It nearly made him pull back, but the reprieve from that vicious hunger that had nearly caused him to attack his brother, was more than enough to keep him.

Her struggles weakened, till she went limp in his arms. Whole body stilling, slumping against him and the wall.

He drew away, licking his red lips, and relishing the warm feeling that flowed easily through his body. For a moment he didn't notice the woman, who no longer screamed and struck out. Who just fell to the ground when he let go, body strewn across the concrete like a crime-scene victim. Head limp, eyes opened, dull and lifeless, expression forever etched with fear and pain.

Eyes widening, he stumbled back, away from her. His balance didn't falter though, his leg no longer hurt from the dog's bite. His mind was clear, and his was all to aware of what he'd just done. One hand moved up, pressed through his lips, to run over his teeth. He pricked one on a lengthened fang. Wincing, he pulled his finger away, and watched as a dark bead of blood appeared. Sucking the finger back into his mouth, he licked at it, felt the wound close.

_Vampire_

The word echoed in his head, like the woman's scream had echoed in the night air. It was sour and sweet at the same time, dark and delicious, bitter like baking chocolate, but addictive like nicotine. Heady, and hot. He grinned to himself, thinking of what it meant.

No more work, he couldn't go in during the day, obviously. School was out too, unless he wanted to be home schooled, (Tch. Fat chance.) no more listening to his father (not that he did that often.). He was free, a creature of the night, no longer bound by mortal laws.

So high on the thought of what he had become, it wasn't until the sound of a phone ringing, that he realized just what he'd done. Blinking at the sound, as he came back to his senses, he stumbled away from the body. Gilbert had always been a bit of a troublemaker, certainly not the pride of his father's eye, but he had never done something like this.

What bothered him more, though, was not what he had done; but the fact that he felt no guilt for it. He didn't feel torn up, or regretful, he felt numb to the fact that he had just killed a random woman. Someone who most likely had a family, people who cared deeply about her, and would obviously miss her. For a moment, a flicker of guilt hit him, strong and heart wrenching, but fleeting and short lived. Brushing the feeling aside, he realized that staying where he was, would be a horrible, terrible idea. So, wiping at his face with the bottom of his shirt, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and left the scene. Pausing just long enough to check the woman's pockets, and taking the small amount of cash out of her wallet. He avidly avoided looking at her ID, lest it draw out the emotions he had no desire to, feel.

Pocketing the money, he turned and left her there, strewn on the sidewalk. He moved at a leisurely pace, not in the least bothered by his actions. The only thing that concerned him, he thought, was the idea that he was obviously a threat to Ludwig, and going home right now was probably not the best idea. Which meant, much to his displeasure, he would need to find some place to sleep for the day.

Despite his initial excitement, as he walked, he started to feel weary. He couldn't escape his thoughts as easily as he had hoped, and was soon greatly distressed with the idea that he could have so easily killed his Bruder. That what had happened to that girl, whose name he didn't want to know, had almost happened to Ludwig.

As he tried to think of where he could stay. What he could do. He decided that he couldn't return home. Not until he could figure out how to completely control himself. He wouldn't put his Bruder at risk. He didn't think he'd miss his dad much. His Vater and him didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things, and he was sure he'd be an even bigger disappointment to the man now.

They'd never gotten along, and after his mother's death, the gap between them had grown worse. It wasn't a loss relationship Gilbert would mourn.

Shrugging those thoughts off, he found himself entering a club. Not a big and flashy one, like the ones he normally frequented. This one was smaller, and still on the wrong side of the tracks. The man at the door hardly looked at Gilbert as he went in. The air smelled like strong liquor, and the lights were dim enough that the stains on his skin and shirt didn't look as menacing as they were.

The music playing was loud, and bad, but after a few drinks, no one would be able to tell. He made his way to a table in the back, not sure if he even could drink beer. That would be a major disappointment, he very much liked the idea of getting drunk off his ass right now.

Much to his surprise, quite a few people took notice of his appearance. Eyes followed him, as he moved between tables and took a seat. Boring into him like heat lamps. He was even more surprised to find that most of those eyes belonged to women.

One, a particularly brave one, even came over to his table, and bought him a drink. The flirting started off awkwardly, as though she wasn't used to doing so. He could tell by the vibe she gave off, that she was normally a mouse. Probably new to the club scene, here with friends who had dragged her out. Bad choice in location, for one's first time. Even so, he accepted the drink, and returned the flirting. Letting himself focus on it, and not all the problems he had to deal with. They could wait.

Much to his pleasure, the taste of beer was the same as it had been the night before. It was refreshing and cold. He nursed the drink, while trading half hearted flirtations with the girl. She was pretty enough, but every time he looked at her, he saw flashes of red hair and freckles, which in turn led to the image of his Bruder standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner. Looking delectable, and far too much like the feast of the night.

She was a nice girl, though. Sweet smile, pretty amber eyes hidden behind thick rimmed glasses, and long brown hair in an odd twist. She smelled like roses. Not the real ones, but that false perfumy smell made to imitate them. Before, he never would have been able to tell the difference, now, it stood out obnoxiously. Like a foul stench trying to claim it was sweet.

By the time he'd finished his one drink, she'd had a few. Small, colorful, fruity things in oddly shaped glasses. Chick drinks.

Giggling, and leaning closer to him, not noticing anything off in the way he eyed her, "You should come home with me." She said. Trailing fingers up his arm, only wondering for a moment at how cold he felt. W_hy didn't he have a coat?_

"Hm..." He watched, carefully, feeling her warm fingertips brush against his skin. "Don't know if you should be inviting me home, Schatzchen."

She giggled again, taking a sip of her fruity little drink, "Schatzchen? What is that?"

He smirked, "You should not invite men home, when you do not know them."

"I'm not worried about you."

"I could be dangerous,"

She paused for a moment, slightly unnerved by his intense red eyes, that were so bright they nearly glowed in the dim lights. Something about him though, drew out a side of her that she normally wouldn't have been able to find, and she was willing to do whatever that side said. "I don't think you are."

With those words, he followed her. More aware and alert than he'd been the night before. He followed her out of the club, and out to an apartment building a few blocks away. It was a run down structure, not very high class, not quite _ghetto_, but close enough. She led him up a several flights of stairs, and through a door, he didn't catch the number on it.

"Come on in," She said, tugging him inside. The moment he passed the threshold, her hands were in his hair, lips on his, one of her long slim legs hooked at his waist. She pressed against him, hot and sweet.

He returned her touches, her kisses, and grinding movements. It wasn't until something hot and coppery touched his tongue, that he felt her jerk her head away from his. One hand slid from his hair, and touched her lip, where blood beaded and started to dribble down her chin. When she pulled her hand away, she blinked at the liquid, not seeming to understand just what it was.

Then her smile returned, eyes flashing with something dark, and she was back on him. All he could think then, was that taste, that warmth. She moaned when he sucked the wounded lip into his mouth. A sound that vibrated through both their mouths. The moan turned into a scream, when he bit down.

She tried to pull away again, but his arms were around her now, and there was no where to go. Like with the girl on the sidewalk, he held this woman still, taking what he could get from her lips, before biting along her cheek and jaw. His teeth sunk into her throat, fangs sliding in like a hot knife in butter. Her screams were loud, heart wrenching, hands clawing and tugging and pushing.

Like the girl before her, she eventually stilled, and he let her drop. Unlike before, they were in a building, with people. Someone banged on a wall, and shouted at her to be quiet.

Standing over her, only feeling mildly sorry. He pulled her body further inside, shutting the door fully. Thankful that no one had been walking passed. With a few quick movements, he locked the door, and moved through the house, leaving her half in the living room, and half out.

The apartment was small, one bedroom, kitchen-living room combo, a small bathroom. There was a large window in the bedroom though, through it you could get to the fire escape. He knew right off that there would be too much light for him to sleep there.

Grabbing the pillows and blankets, he moved to the bathroom. Feeling exhaustion creeping up on him, he made himself comfortable on the floor of the tiny room, curling up between the shower and the toilet.

He woke up three times, that he could remember. The first two times were for the phone ringing. A annoying '_brrrrring' _sound that seemed to echo in his head. His body felt heavy, and mind foggy, so he ignored it both times. The third time, he was much more alert, it still took him a minute to realize what it was that woke him, where he was, and the night before was a blur.

As he sat up, it all came rushing back. He remembered the girl on the sidewalk, the girl at the club. His hunger.

He was still hungry...

The sound that woke him up this time, was that of someone banging on the door. Not the bathroom door, thankfully. He pulled himself up, arching his back, and stretching his arms over his head. He took in a deep breath, smelling in chemical cleaners, and flowery soaps. Ignoring the banging on the front door, he gave himself a once over in the mirror, pleased to see his reflection was still there.

He looked like shit, he realized. Frowning, he washed his face off with cold water, and ran a wet hand through his dirty hair. A shower would be nice, he thought, but he didn't know how long he'd have before someone managed to get through that door. Even with the chain and added latch. So, he left the bath room, and moved to the bedroom.

Outside was dark, the sun had set recently according to a clock on the wall. He went through the girl's things, and found a few stashes. Some of money, some of less legal things. Pocketing them all, he left via the fire escape.

He paused when he reached the ground. Looking up at the window he'd left through. A momentary pang of guilt hit. It faded quickly, and he wandered off, wondering where he could go to get cleaned up.


End file.
